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The sky was clear, and the sunlight was warm as always. Yet beneath it, the village remained eerily silent, blanketed in stillness.

It felt alien. The scenery seemed isolated from the world, prompting Ian to leave Deon Priest behind as he walked alone along the road into the village.

A chilling aura crept over the surrounding land.

Perhaps because of this, entering the quiet village felt unsettling, as though stepping into another world.

With his holy sword drawn, Ian stepped carefully, avoiding puddles of rainwater, until he came across an altar fashioned from corpses.

Though smaller than the one in the first village, its surroundings were blackened, suggesting it had been there for some time.

Ian lit the foul-smelling corpses on fire and stepped back.

Fwoosh!

The flames roared to life. Watching the blackened smoke and flames, Ian remained vigilant. However, he sensed no unusual presence or peculiar phenomena.

‘…Good.’

He had feared that the Outer God, Gnawing Spectator, whom the Battle Wraiths revered, might appear as The Faceless One had done. Fortunately, it seemed his concerns were unwarranted.

Still wary of the possibility of more Battle Wraiths arriving, Ian climbed atop a building overlooking the altar, concealed himself, and sank into thought.

‘This mission might as well be over now.’

It felt anticlimactic, but with the source of the problem identified, there wasn’t much else to do.

While he lingered to ensure no Battle Wraiths remained in the village, the altar burned to ashes without any sign of them. It was clear there were no more in the vicinity.

The Battle Wraiths who had been here seemed to be the man and woman—just those two.

However, the answer the Battle Wraiths gave to his last question still lingered in his mind.

—“Too many to count!”

They wouldn’t have said that without reason.

If only a few had crossed the border, they would have dared Ian to find out for himself. Their confidence suggested there was a basis for their claim.

If the Battle Wraiths continued to reveal themselves openly, as they had this time, it wouldn’t be an issue. But if creatures of their caliber operated in hiding, it would be a headache to deal with.

He had to track them down. The only clue in his possession was the ring stored in his pocket.

“……”

If he wanted to avoid trouble, walking away now would be the wise choice. But he didn’t want to.

Ironically, Ian’s remarkable growth so far had been due to his constant entanglement with the Outer World.

Though he couldn’t be certain about the end of the world, he knew its downfall was inevitable.

Just like the setting sun and the rising moon, destruction approached steadily and unavoidably.

He couldn’t retreat when he knew this so clearly.

This was a trial he had to face and overcome.

Only by doing so could he survive—and if he wanted to reach higher realms, he needed to continue achieving great feats.

Sliding down from the roof, Ian set off toward his next destination.

***

A majestic temple with white stone columns.

This was the Pantheon in the great city of Lus, specifically the area dedicated to the Eighth Lord, Rahania of Scorched Flame.

Many moved through the sacred space quietly, their hearts filled with reverence.

Ian walked past them, heading deeper inside. No outsiders could be seen in this part of the temple.

Passing priests glanced at him briefly but quickly bowed their heads in respect upon noticing the faint glow of the golden badge on his collar.

Though somewhat burdensome, it was also a source of pride.

Ian stopped in front of a room. The door was open.

Peering inside, he saw a man nodding off at his desk.

The pen in his hand and the pile of documents suggested he had been approving paperwork until moments ago.

Ian gazed at him silently.

Eor al Democia.

The overseer of Gehiel Fortress and a Judge of the Scorched Flame. He wouldn’t feign sleep intentionally.

For someone imbued with spiritual energy to succumb to drowsiness meant he had been overworking himself. It was no wonder the dark circles under his eyes looked so pronounced.

Ian didn’t wait for him to wake up.

Knock, knock.

He tapped on the open door. Eor’s head drooped slightly before he slowly opened his eyes and looked up.

His response was sluggish, likely due to his halted thoughts slowly resuming.

“…Ah.”

Eor seemed to recall Ian’s name and gestured for him to enter.

Ian walked in, pulled over a chair, and sat down, leaning back against the backrest.

It was a display of blatant disrespect before a Judge, but Eor didn’t seem to mind.

His indifferent gaze showed no disappointment. Instead, he looked more annoyed at having his rest disturbed. His weary voice carried his displeasure.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Priest Michael informed me. He said that since the Judge was present, it’d be best to report directly to you.”

“A report?”

Eor sighed softly and tapped his desk with the tip of his pen.

“If it’s about the mission you took on my behalf, wasn’t that just yesterday? Should I take your presence here as a sign you’ve given up?”

“No way. I’ve finished it quite successfully.”

“…Already? It hasn’t even been a full day.”

“If you don’t believe me, read this. It’ll explain everything.”

Ian handed over the report he had been holding.

It was a document prepared by Deon Priest, detailing the events in full. Stripped of embellishments and concise enough to be read quickly.

As expected, Eor’s eyes twitched as he read.

“Battle Wraiths. You’ve encountered troublesome beings. What did you do with their bodies?”

“I burned them thoroughly. You can rest assured.”

“Hmm. I had thought it would be a nuisance and left it to you, but had I known it’d be resolved this quickly, I might have gone myself. Luck, I suppose. With this report, the Pantheon should recognize the mission as complete. You’ve done well. You’re dismissed.”

Eor gestured toward the door, signaling Ian to leave.

However, Ian remained seated, fingers interlocked, showing no intention of moving.

“Do you have something else to say?”

“Judge, to be honest, there’d be no issue if I left now. But before wrapping this up, there’s one thing I’ve uncovered.”

“…The ring, I presume.”

“I obtained it from the Battle Wraiths.”

Eor took the ring Ian offered, running his fingers over the inscription inside to examine the markings.

It depicted a bird with its wings spread wide, silhouetted against the moon. Judging by his furrowed brow, Eor didn’t seem to know what it symbolized.

“According to Priest Deon, it resembles the emblem of the White Owl Mercenary Group, who guard the Silver Wave Trading Company.”

“I’m not familiar with the group. Are they well-known?”

“I’m not sure.”

Ian didn’t know how reputable the White Owl Mercenary Group was during this time.

But if they were anything like he remembered, their skills were undoubtedly formidable.

Eor narrowed his eyes at Ian suspiciously.

“And why are you showing me this? To have me verify it because you find it suspicious?”

“No. I wanted to let you know that the mission you assigned me isn’t over yet.”

Ian rose from his seat slowly. He still hadn’t returned the insignia symbolizing the Judge’s authority.

“Consider the documents I handed you as an interim report. I’ll investigate the connection between the White Owl Mercenary Group and the Battle Wraiths myself and report back.”

“…Taking on extra work for yourself, I see. Fine. I don’t know what you plan to do, but shall we go together?”

“You, Judge? You seem to have plenty of work to do.”

Ian gestured toward the pile of documents on the desk, to which Eor chuckled faintly.

“Michael can handle it. He’s supposed to be doing it anyway—I’ve just been covering for him.”

Eor spoke shamelessly, though Ian suspected the opposite was true.

Eor threw on a modest coat, readying himself to leave.

And so, Ian and Eor departed from the Pantheon together.

The only thing Ian knew about the White Owl Mercenary Group was their trademark white masks and aggressive tendencies. Beyond that, he was clueless.

Typically, this would be the time to visit an informant in the back alleys, but Ian decided to head to the Mercenary Guild first.

***

“Out of the way!”

“Any fire-element mages? I’ve got a job to discuss!”

“Looking for three Level 4 players to join a hunting mission! First come, first served!”

As usual, the guild was abuzz with activity.

People seeking new companions shouted out their requirements at the top of their lungs, and others responded with interest.

The bulletin board was crammed with guild-stamped request forms, each representing a job waiting to be taken.

Ian approached the reception desk.

“What brings you he— Wait a minute. You’re…”

The receptionist’s initially brusque tone softened as he looked up at Ian, trailing off. There was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

“Well, well. Isn’t it the young master of Berger?”

It was the same employee who had issued Ian his registration during his first visit to the guild.

Grinning broadly, he exposed his yellowed teeth, clearly aware of Ian’s growing reputation.

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately.”

“And you still act this way, knowing who I am?”

“Why not? You’re still a rookie mercenary. If you don’t like my attitude, maybe update your mercenary badge. I bet your rank would shoot up now.”

“I’ll pass for now.”

“Hmm? So what brings you here? Looking to take on a request? Plenty of people would jump at the chance to hire you. If you leave it to me, I’ll hook you up with a good one.”

“No need. I’m here to ask about something.”

“Me? If it’s information you’re after, you’d be better off checking the back alleys. The stuff the guild deals in is common knowledge.”

“No need to go that far.”

Ian flicked a gold coin from his pocket. The bright yellow metal gleamed as it caught the light, capturing the receptionist’s full attention.

In an instant, the man snatched it, his movements swift and practiced to avoid drawing others’ eyes.

“Alright, what do you want to know?”

Despite having pocketed what was likely half a month’s salary, his tone remained as curt as ever.

Ian drew upon his mana.

Kiing—

A faint ripple resonated as a barrier formed around them. It was the Qi Veil technique he had learned from Gailgron, designed to prevent eavesdropping.

Though he hadn’t had many chances to use it, his training paid off as the execution was seamless.

The receptionist’s slightly startled expression was hard to miss, but Ian maintained a calm demeanor, masking his satisfaction.

He spoke in an even tone, careful not to reveal his excitement.

“I want information about the White Owl Mercenary Group.”

“You know about the White Owl Mercenary Group, right?”

“Of course I do. They’re those sword-wielding lunatics who go around wearing white masks. Why, are you interested? Thinking about joining?”

“I’m considering it.”

“Oh? Honestly, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why not?”

When Ian asked for a reason, the receptionist glanced at the Qi Veil Ian had cast before answering.

“This thing… It’s to keep sound from leaking out, right?”

“It is. So?”

“The White Owls are total maniacs. I have no idea what the Silver Wave Trading Company was thinking when they hired them for escort work. If you so much as make eye contact with them, they’ll draw their swords on you immediately. Every last one of them seems to have a serious anger management problem. There’s even a rumor that recently, they pulled swords on their employer, the head of the Silver Wave Trading Company, causing the company all sorts of trouble. Honestly, why not try joining ‘Second Wing’ or ‘Green Blade’ instead?”

The receptionist smirked, but Ian shook his head.

“No, thanks. Where is the White Owl Mercenary Group right now?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“What?”

“Didn’t I already say? They’re working for the Silver Wave Trading Company. Even if you paid me and I usually share information, there are still things I can and can’t say as a guild employee. If you’re that curious, go see an informant.”

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